Wayward Souls
by Evil Bunny1
Summary: Some souls linger in this world, afraid of what awaits them. Others move foward, confident they will meet again. How long would you wait for love? [Miroku Kagome]


Wayward Souls  
  
Yet another brief interlude by the Evil Bunny.  
  
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"If I ever leave this world alive, I'll take on all the sadness that I've left behind. If I ever leave this world alive, the madness that you feel will soon subside. So in a word, don't shed a tear. I'll be here when it all gets weird. If I ever leave this world alive. So when in doubt just call my name, just before you go insane. If I ever leave this world, I may never leave this world, but if I ever leave this world alive." ~Flogging Molly "If I ever leave this world alive."  
  
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Her arms curled around herself, as if the action could somehow stave off the insidious evil forces that swirled around her.  
  
They were there, they were always there.  
  
It was as if something inside her soul had clicked on, or snapped maybe. Wouldn't it be a delightful change if it turned out she was completely insane? Just mental jelly for the daily toast.  
  
Sometimes she pretended that this was all a long incredibly lucid dream. Or maybe not so lucid. Maybe it was all being played out by some twisted omnipresent puppet master. One who twisted her strings and shoved her awkwardly dancing form into the next scene. It was just too easy to pawn all of her worldly problems off onto someone, even if that someone was a satanic love child of William Shakespeare and Alfred Hitchcock.  
  
The misty forms that surrounded her hissed and snapped their displeasure at no longer being the center of attention. "Quake in fear of our semi transparent, haunt like forms!" they seemed to shout. But she was far to used to their presence to be impressed. If she were able, she would toss her spiritual powers directly into the flaming pits of hell. All she needed was a map and maybe some trail mix to tie her over on the journey down.  
  
How long before she could grow to ignore them? How long would it take to make them believe she no longer saw them, for them to leave her alone? Is this what happened to Kikyo? Is this why she was so distant and cool, even before she died?  
  
Just how much stronger would she have to become? How much more would she be forced to endure? She lowered her forehead to her knees, inhaling a shaky breath. Choking slightly on the grisly fat that was her course in life, she raised shimmering eyes to the ever vigilant moon.  
  
Years. And yet her quest went on. Friends and allies had come and gone, thankfully the same could be said about their foes. How many had died, how many more still would? Not to long ago she had fleetingly thought that it would never end, it would continue on until one day she met herself, young, naive, and not yet pulled through the well.  
  
Her eyes squeezed tightly shut to keep the wayward tears back, and a hand lightly touched her shoulder. She knew who it was, she could feel him.  
  
"Do you see them?" She whispered softly.  
  
"Yes, sometimes." He replied as he eased down to sit beside her.  
  
"Do they ever go away?" She wondered.  
  
"Yes. They move on, get taken away, and sometimes just...give up." He said easily.  
  
They sat in silence for a while. At ease with each other. Over time she had come to trust him implicitly. He was a rock in the swirling turbulent water, steadfast, something that she could cling too, even if he didn't know it. She sighed, her eyes still on the moon.  
  
"Kagome?" He questioned. "It's nothing." She assured him. "I mean it's not like some insidious cosmic snafu is going to send me on a moral crusade, ridding rampant across the countryside spouting evangelical propaganda. No, I'm just searching for a sacred jewel with some perpetually angry quasi demon five hundred years in the past. I guess it's not that bad." He gave a light chuckle, sliding his arm around her. To his credit he was only slightly surprised when she lowered her head to his shoulder and leaned into him. "Well," he started "at least you don't have an icy cold urn made of earth and clay as a poor excuse for a body." He said it all very matter of fact- ly.  
  
She turned slightly watery eyes to meet him. "Are you trying to make me feel sorry for that un-dead tart?" She asked with a slight rising of her brow.  
  
"Never!" He scoffed incredulously.  
  
She chuckled softly, once again cuddling into him. Her heart lifted when his arm slid around her back to pull her closer. She fought the urge to heave a dreamy school girl inspired sigh. Instead she turned her face to the souls that danced rhythmically against the inky black sky. They twirled and spun, as if purely for the couple's amusement. And Kagome said as much.  
  
Miroku smiled. "That would be because they are."  
  
She turned her questioning eyes towards him once again. "What do you mean?"  
  
His eyes twinkled, as if trying to make up for the lack of stars in the sky. "Why else are they here?" He countered, lips twitching when she only succeeded in looking bewildered. "These souls," he said, gesturing vaguely with his free hand; "they do not want to move on. They feel that they have the right to stay." His hand moved lightly up and down her spine, fingers pausing periodically to rub strong circles around her vertebrae. "They want the attention. They know we can see them, not many can. It gives them a tiny taste of what it feels to be alive again, as minute as it may be."  
  
"Why?" She asked softly, as if two giant hands of the great creator would push away the darkness and peek its head through to explain it to her. Her hand crept unconsciously over Miroku's thigh, coming to rest on the inside of his knee.  
  
Miroku glanced down, noting the long slender fingers resting against the violet cloth. The stress that seemed to have taken residence around his eyes promptly disappeared. "Think about it." He murmured, watching her face as best he could from his current angle. "Their fates are far from certain."  
  
She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Why not move on? Be reborn, give it another go?" She turned slightly, unbearably close, and met his gaze.  
  
Surprising even himself, his hand lifted to her face. She didn't seem to mind, his thumb trailed along her cheekbone, fingers slipping down to test the plumpness of her lips. "What if that is not what is meant to be? Their souls could be bound for hell. They could even be afraid of who they are destined to become. No doubt it would be very different from who they were." Her hand came up to lightly rest on his forearm, but didn't push him away. Her fingers pushed down his sleeve, grazing the flesh she uncovered. "They are parted from friends, loved ones; they are reluctant to leave what they had." His voice was hushed, low and resounding. He seemed fascinated by her face.  
  
Kagome watched him solemnly. Her eyes were serious, more so than he was used to. Miroku's breath caught when she pulled his hand away. Then she did something unexpected, she came closer, turning her back to him and seating herself carefully between his crossed legs. He didn't hesitate to bring his arms around her and pull her back against him. She seemed to fold into him, loosing herself in the darkness and his scent.  
  
She ran one finger up and down his thigh, comforted by his ready acceptance. "What of those that they are destined to meet?" She wondered allowed. "Aren't they just cheating themselves out of new happiness?"  
  
Miroku lowered his head into the fragrant curve of her neck, nuzzling slightly. "Mmm hmm." He affirmed, bringing one arm up to cross her chest and resting his hand on her shoulder. "Fear does strange things to a persons thought process." He whispered softly against her throat.  
  
Her hand reached up to pull his head down closer, running her fingers through his silky dark hair with a sigh. She seemed upset, pitying the murky figures. Her fingers tangled in the strands holding him there, and she turned her head to look at him.  
  
Their eyes locked. There was no surprise, no fleeting tingle of nervousness. They were, it seemed, completely at terms with the direction fate had pointed them in. She turned her body slightly, bringing her other hand up to rest on the back of his neck. His head lowered slowly, watching her eyes flutter shut. It was a light brush; feather light, a trailing softness that was only the beginning. Her lips parted slightly against his, encouraging him further. He trailed his tongue gently over her bottom lip, nipping slightly and using his hands to tilt her head back and slightly to the side.  
  
She peered through her lashes finding his eyes still open and watching her. Nudging slightly closer, she instigated a deeper kiss; tangling their tongues together letting him explore her mouth. He tasted clean, and slightly sweet, she hummed in pleasure and with happy surprise. He pulled her closer, her knee pushing into his ribs. She sank. The deep caress of his tongue, the light nips of his teeth, they pushed all thought out of her head. She was absorbed in his smell, strong black tea and cloves.  
  
His touch was light, and slow; but it seemed to be everywhere. It was running across her lower back, trailing down her thigh, and whispering its way down her neck all at once. Just when she thought she couldn't fall any deeper, he gently pulled back. Their breathing was heavy, breath mingled. His hands framed her face softly, and he rested his forehead against hers. Her hands moved to cover his, not wanting to let go just yet.  
  
She could feel waves of sadness rolling off of him. She lifted her head to meet eyes filled with regret and pain. He pulled her against him, holding her tightly.  
  
Kagome slowly lifted a hand, and laced her fingers with his. She lifted the other as well, using both to encase smooth beads and silk. Miroku's breath pushed out in a shuddering sigh as he buried his face in her hair.  
  
"You'd think the deserving ones would have some choice." She said softly. "The ones that decide to move on, to live again. They should be able to choose. They should get to pick who they get to meet." She placed several small light kisses on his fingers. "Some souls are just meant to meet again."  
  
He lifted his head from her shoulder, and placed his lips on her temple. "Yes." He murmured. Turning her in, he enfolded her in his arms again, his lips seeking hers. "I'll find you again." He promised.  
  
"And I'll wait for you." She returned.  
  
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This is a one shot.  
  
It's the result of several drunken typing sessions, and I really didn't intend for it to wind up this way. In fact it was going to be Kagome's angst, how she was becoming more and more like Kikyo...but that didn't come about. I really didn't mean for it to be sad, or refer to death in any way; but the whole 'seeing souls' brought out my morbid side.  
  
While I do reserve the right to add to this should the desire emerge, I more than likely will not. But please, let me know what you think. I may just come back to this one night when I'm supposed to be studying.  
  
Thanks for reading. EB 


End file.
